www.1001TopWords.com |
Ode to: The Ice Maiden of Ampatos Summit [now in: English and Spanish]
Dedícate to Antonio Castillo. L. Of. Los Andes Universitario Ode to: The Ice MaidenOf Ampato's Summit English Version Part OneThe Climb In the spring of my life, in my village By the Andes, I awoke one morning To find I was chosen for a journey How shall I say: to the summit of Ampato! Ampato, our sacred mountain I climbed with our holy priests. I found myself twenty-thousand feet high; I would be the sacrificial offering Ordained so, by our celestial chief priest. Once on top, death could scarcely be Any bitter than its wild arduous winds; And the icy cold Andean ceremony?. And there I sat, within the clouds, and rested With figurines of silver and gold, And beautiful textiles adorning me All dressed, in fine indulgent funerary, I was to be, the Inca Ice Maiden Now ready for death and burial. 'I hoped the gods of Ampato,' so I prayed 'Are pleased today'; for my body, Will be frozen soon, anyway. Yet, I'm so very cold, and my hands clutch, To my dress-tightly, against my side; I cannot see anything vividly. Thus, the holy moment has come for me I died with every hope that was. (Five-hundred years ago!...) Part TwoBeyond Death I felt my soul, my spirit, fall, falling In this thick discolored air, After a very, very long silence; No woman, though woman I once was, Once was, and now my blood lumped Lumped and frozen like ice knobs. The soul maker, from whom gave me My first breath at birth? He is coming now, He's nearby As I reply, He sees my soul cry- My tears, frozen tears?melt I will be, resurrected (He tells me) He rules the earth, its mountains All its waters and skies, His holy Inca city, must be nearby? 'Lead me,' I sigh, a lowly sigh- 'Lead me to this Holy Inca City, And leave my cold ill body behind.' And He smiles, as he leads me Leads me with untouchable hands, Leads me to the Holy City!...#748 7/4/05 ∆ In Spanish/Español Translated by Nancy PeñalozaEdited by Rosa Peñaloza La Doncella de HieloDe la Cumbre de Ampato Versión en español Primera parte La Subida En la primavera de mi vida, en mi puebloPor los Andes, desperté una mañanaPara encontrar que fui escogida para un viaje. Como voy a decir: ¡A la cumbre de Ampato!Ampato, nuestra montaña sagradaSubí con nuestros santos sacerdotes. Me encontré a 20,000 pies de altura;Yo sería el sacrificio ofrecidoOrdenado así, por nuestro celestial sacerdote principal Una vez en la cima, la muerte apenas podría serNada más amarga, que sus arduos vientos salvajes;Y la ceremonia andina fría helada-. Y allí me senté, entre las nubes, y descansé Con las estatuillas de plata y oro, Y el textil hermoso adornándome Toda vestida, en el fino funerario indulgente, Yo debía ser, la Doncella Inca de Hielo Ahora lista para la muerte y el entierro. "Esperé que los dioses de Ampato", por eso recé"Estén contentos hoy día"; por que mi cuerpo,Será congelado pronto, de todos modos. Todavía, tengo tanto frío, y mis manos enganchadas,A mi vestido- fuertemente, contra mi costado;No puedo ver nada vívidamente. Así, el momento sagrado ha venido para míMuero con cada esperanza que hubo.(¡Quinientos años atrás!....) Segunda Parte Más Allá de la Muerte Sentí mi alma, mi espíritu, caer, cayendoEn este aire espeso decolorado,Después de un, muy largo silencio Ninguna mujer, aunque mujer fui una vezUna vez fui, y ahora mi sangre amontonadaAmontonada y congelada como copos de hielo. El Hacedor del alma, por quien mi primer alientoMe fue dado al nacer....El está viniendo ahora, El está muy cerca. Como respondo, El ve mi alma llorar-Mis lágrimas, lágrimas heladas...derretirseYo seré, resucitada (me dice El) El gobierna la tierra, sus montañasTodas sus aguas y cielos, Sus ciudades Incas santas deben esta cerca? "Guíame" yo suspiro, un suspiro humilde"Guíame a esta ciudad santa Inca,Y deja mi helado cuerpo enfermo atrás". Y El sonríe, mientras me guía¡Guiándome con sus intocables manos,Guiándome a la ciudad santa! ..... #748 4 de Julio del 2005 Dennis Siluk Poet, see his new book "Spell of the Andes," at http://www.amazon.com
|
RELATED ARTICLES
The Valley Of Pain We were exiled from the Garden of Eden. Its sinless wonders nevermore to regain.So every man on life's toilsome journey,Must enter the valley of pain. The Goat and the Rope [a Poem: in Spanish and English] The Goat and the Rope Stones As I picked up some of the polished gemstones in the rock store I began to think about what the stones looked like before they were polished. The store had several rocks on display showing the before and after and I realized that unless you knew what you were looking for, you could easily pass by a valuable gemstone. I also thought about how many times we pass by someone because they look "ordinary" and what we might be missing because we don't get to know their "inner person". Thus this poem. I Hate The Wait (Weight) I get up in the morning Three Poems: Dona Leonors Revenge; The Old Moon; Common Sides [All in Spanish/all in English] 1) Doña Leonor's Revenge [1627 AD] Birthday Messages I WANTED TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF FLOWERS A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED. Memoirs of a Wastelands Rim [a Poem: now in Spanish and English] Memoirs of a Wasteland's Rim A Case of The Fears Chicken Soup is good for a cold Robert Burns Love Poem: A Red, Red Rose Robert Burns, a poor man, an educated man, and a ladies' man, is representative of Scotland, much like whisky, haggis, bagpipes, and kilts. He lived a life shortened by rheumatic heart disease, 1759-1796, but his life journey through poverty, informal education, disappointed love, nationalism, and literary and financial success can be identified by all Scots and common men the world over. He has become almost a national symbol of all things Scottish. His life is like a love story with a happy ending. Savage Nature: The Life of Ted Hughes One of the most important poets of the post-war period, Edward James Hughes (1930-1998), was drawn towards the primitive. He was enchanted by the beauty of the natural world, frequently portraying its cruel and savage temperament in his work as a reflection of his own personal suffering and mystical beliefs - convinced that modern man had lost touch with the primordial side of his nature. The Plane from Iquitos [1959-Part One] Iquitos & the AmazonPart One The Art of Receiving Poetic Critique You can show your poem to your mom, your spouse, your co-workers, or your friends, but you might not get the responses that you can suck up into your little writing fingers to use in an effort to refine your craft. What does it really mean when someone who cares about you, but not for poetry says, "Wow, this is great. I really like it?" Lamenting Poetic Moods [six Poems] Advance: in Mr. Siluk's poetry one finds symbolist values, sensuous impressions; verbal magic and even childish jingles; at times the popular 8-syllable verse (ballad metre). Free verse, with lamenting poetic moods, even satire (poems inside-out). Here are a few more of his recently written poems. Rosa Peñaloza. Three Sweet Poems, and Two Not So Sweet [now in: SPANISH and English] 1) End Poem I Shall Wait... I Shall Wait.. Mechanical Poetry; Part Two What do you do when you want to write poetry? I hope your answer is "I start writing." Even writing a bad poem is better than waiting for the "right words." You can always throw it away, and the process has begun. You'll start to find the words sooner than if you had just waited. Here are some more ways to get started. Mother, I Dont Mind The Pain I am among those who know that one never recovers from the loss of one deeply loved. We come to accept the death and adjust our lives - rather begrudingly, but we do not recover, we survive. Somewhere in the grief process, we make the decision to survive and then we are emotionally enabled to build a different kind of relationship with our deceased loved one. You Lost Your Last Gamble and Me I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's advice The Lull of Twilight [Over Mantaro Valley] In English and Spanish Twilight, was now beginning. As for Uamaks Aquatic [suspense: now in Spanish and English] Delicately, my mind was selecting a muffled tune, out of the dead dark empty space surrounding me? |
© Athifea Distribution LLC - 2013 |